


A Fantasy in Halamshiral

by geekyjez



Series: Romance Meme [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Halamshiral, Sex Dream, Sexual Fantasy, The Winter Palace, the poor girl is sexually frustrated alright?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:32:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was a dream she’d had before. A fantasy Isii liked to indulge in occasionally. The first few times she’d had it, she felt somewhat shy, embarrassed at the thought that perhaps Solas might choose that moment to seek her out in the Fade and would witness it. She didn’t worry about that now, however. Shameless though it may be, anything that would spur him into action would be a blessing at this point. And she was certain he wouldn’t dislike what he saw.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Isii dreams about how her night at the Winter Palace could have gone very differently.</p><p>Part of my <a href="http://geeky-jez.tumblr.com/post/110670088193/signs-of-affection-romance-prompt-meme">Romance Meme</a> from tumblr. Prompt: <b>Isii's Dream - A Fantasy + A Love Bite.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fantasy in Halamshiral

**Author's Note:**

> Ties into a scene from [Ma Halamshiral](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2908469/chapters/6481070) (chapter 5 specifically).

It was a dream she’d had before. A fantasy Isii liked to indulge in occasionally. The first few times she’d had it, she felt somewhat shy, embarrassed at the thought that perhaps Solas might choose that moment to seek her out in the Fade and would witness it. She didn’t worry about that now, however. Shameless though it may be, anything that would spur him into action would be a blessing at this point. And she was certain he wouldn’t dislike what he saw.

The dream always began the same way – replaying a memory, reliving that night at the Winter Palace. The script remained the same, locked into the limitations of what had been. Taking a moment to speak to Solas, lingering, enticed by the change in his behavior. He was flirtatious, his words suggestive, murmuring about danger and sex with a heated look in his eyes. That much she remembered well – it wasn’t some fabrication of her desire or of what would come next in this dream. That had been real. That night he looked at her in a way she had never seen before and it made her want to toy with him, to draw him out further. She relished the opportunity to tease him, sucking suggestively on his fingertips when he offered her one of the cakes he’d set aside for himself, letting out a low moan as if to savor the flavor. By the way his eyes narrowed from behind his wolf-faced mask, his lips curling slightly, he knew exactly what she was doing.

“I don’t think that sort of behavior is going to win you any favor with the court, Inquisitor.” The words fell from his lips as they had before, even as his face contradicted the disapproval he attempted to express by saying them.

She grabbed the end of his mask to draw him closer, near enough that he would be able to feel her breath on his ear as she spoke. “It will earn me favor with my Wolf.” Then that sound he’d made, that groaning growl that slid down her spine, the one she’d replayed for herself when thoughts of her lover brought on that now all-too-familiar longing ache. In that moment, the dream parted from memory. Instead of pulling away and urging her to go, Solas grabbed her wrist, slipping her hand from his mask, leaning back just far enough to look at her, studying her, a slanted grin tugging at his lips.

When he asked her to follow him, she went willingly, eagerly. He walked with a nonchalant air as he strode through the mingling gathering of shems, approaching a closed door, testing the handle to find it unlocked. He peered into the room beyond briefly before silently gesturing for her to enter, following close behind as she obeyed. Within moments of hearing him bolt the door behind him, his hands were on her, turning her to face him, angling his head to capture her mouth, the snout of his mask pressing to her cheek. His kiss was searing. Starving. His body drove her back, stumbling from the force of it though his hold kept her upright. Her legs hit the edge of a desk and he lifted her up onto it, hands reaching down to gather her skirts.

She broke away from his mouth, gasping. “Solas-” His name was a weak protest that this wasn’t right, that they would get caught. The things he said next varied each time she dreamed of this, yet the meaning was always the same. He needed her. Ached for her. Couldn’t bear the idea of waiting any longer. His kisses dragged along her throat, tongue tracing the length of her ear as he worked the tie of her mask loose. He lowered it as he spoke of how long he had wanted her, of the many ways he’d dreamed of taking her, detailing promises that one day he would fulfill them all. His voice was like honey and she licked it from his lips, his hands dipping below the hem of her gown. Fingertips trailed along her thighs, slowly tracing the parting of her lips through her smalls and already it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. She could feel her pulse beneath the brush of his hand, her hips already arching to meet him.

“Is this what you want, vhenan?” he groaned low in her ear as his body drew close, stepping between her parting knees. Her breath was caught in her throat, the lacings on her corset suddenly feeling so tight, so constricting. He grinned, tilting her chin up with his other hand, staring at her intently from behind the wolf’s face. “Dirtha,” he commanded, dragging his thumb against her lip.

“Please,” she choked out, his fingertips circling against damp fabric, enough to tantalize but not nearly enough to satisfy. She reached forward, pulling his mask away, easing her access to his lips as she dragged him into her kiss, his hand working her smalls down as his other set to freeing himself from his breeches. These were not the leisurely actions of two people exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. Those thoughts belonged to other fantasies. In this dream, it was always a rush, a race to fulfill that need, drunk on mutual lust. He positioned himself, drawing her legs up around him, biting her neck hard as he pressed himself into her and  _Creators_ , she melted at the mere idea.

It was always at this point in the dream that her thoughts diverged. She didn’t know what kind of lover he was and so her mind played over the possibilities. Would he take his time with long, slow strokes, nearly drawing out of her before each heated thrust so she could feel every inch of him – or would he take her hard and fast, chasing release with desperate abandon? No matter how it started, that’s how it would always end; her back arching, gasping as she urged him on, begging for more,  _vhenan, tel’felas, harder, harder_. Kicking off her shoes, hooking her ankles behind him so she could drive him forward, leaning back on the desk as he dragged her hips further down, angling to bury himself deeper. She’d tried to silence herself before, aware of their surroundings, not wanting to get caught, but now the sounds came from her freely, a wanton pleasured song, shouting his name, begging for release. She didn’t care who was listening.  _Let the stupid shems hear the elves fucking in Halamshiral,_  she thought with a defiant laugh, the sound caught between her breathless cries. And when she came he went with her, head thrown forward with a hard moan to match her own.

She could feel the dream shifting, growing foggy and distant as something drew her from the Fade. She groaned her displeasure in a sleepy rasp, trying to fight the pull of waking. She wanted to finish the dream. To linger in that moment as she’d imagined it before, when he slumped his weight forward, catching his breath, her fingernails tracing light trails along his scalp as she let the pleasured relief soak into every fiber of her body. But the dream had already faded now, growing ever more distant as she became aware of the hand on her shoulder.

Isii opened her eyes slowly. Solas was crouched down beside her, the light inside the tent bright enough to tell her it was late morning. “You should get up now, vhenan.” He whispered, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “Cassandra is getting quite anxious to leave.”

The dream left her with that frustratingly familiar tenderness between her legs, the heat of arousal without any of the physical satisfaction of release. It was the one quality that even the best sex dream lacked. There was no hope of relieving it now, with or without his cooperation – not with the others waiting outside. But she hungered for him, burned for him, unable to free herself from thinking about the feel of his body as she looked up at him now. She trailed her hand across his chest, taking a loose grip on his tunic. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

A brief confusion passed over his brow but he complied, leaning down. She lifted her head to catch his lips, desperate and wanting as she wrapped her arms around him. When he pulled away it was too soon.

A kiss could never be enough.  

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:
> 
> Dirtha – Speak. In this context: “Tell me.”
> 
> Tel’felas – Literally “not slow”. Used as a command, meaning “don’t be slow.”


End file.
